when motivation wanes

Most of the time, running is just part of my life. Like eating, sleeping and working, running is part of the fabric of my days -- a habit that I neither question nor consider optional.

On those days, I'll never grow tired of running because the excitement I feel is like a fuel -- a supercharger. Other people use caffeine; I use running. (And then there are those who use both, but that's a different post.)

Most of the time, this is fine. More than fine; just how it's supposed to be.

But then there are those days when running begins to feel like a blip, a wrinkle smack in the middle of the smoothness of the day. I do it, of course, but I don't relish it or get excited about an upcoming run.

Then, running becomes (dare I say it?) a chore.

The supercharger needs some maintenance. Sometimes I know it's so minor, I just ride it out, like a minor scratch on the shiny fender. No one else will notice it, so why should I?

But when it hits me bad, I turn to America's favorite pass time: retail therapy. (There! I've admitted it and I'm happy to say that it feels good to get that out in the open.)

A sassy new running skirt, a pair of socks, even a headband can motivate me in the most predictable way. Strap on something new, and I've got to take it for a test run. Literally.

When I feel less like spending a chunk of money, and when a morning run is looming from an 8 p.m.-the-night-before perspective, I flip on my laptop and navigate to my iTunes library. With a 15 year old in the house, I can always count on some new music to be available and willing to join one of my running playlists.

If not, I spend three or four bucks on a few 99-cent songs, synch my iPod, and tuck it away until the morning.

If I think very hard about my need to buy something to motivate me to do what I'm supposed to be doing in the first place (taking care of my body), I realize I need a deeper attitude adjustment. I need to remember why I started running in the first place: to be healthy enough to be alive to see my children--and their children--grow up.

Too bad my life (and I suspect yours, too) is so full of conveniences (like cars) and unhealthy body-influences (like potato chips) that I even have to worry about counteracting all the harm I do each day just by living in the modern world.

And so I run. And I do plan to be alive to see my grandchildren grown, if it takes all the running skirts and iTunes in the world to get me there.

That's just how it's supposed to be.